Angel
by Ticklesivory
Summary: Obidala, what else? ObiWan is living in exile on Tatooine, trying to cope with the events from his past, and not doing so well until he sees someone he does not expect.
1. Chapter 1

**Angel **

By Ticklesivory

---

**Chapter One**

Laughter of children echo about her, playing against her senses, tickling her hearing, bringing amusement to her soul. She cannot see them, not with physical sight, but she knows they are there, and they are numerous.

Feet scamper nearby and run past her. Away from her. Their carefree and playful chatter drawing upon her awareness, creating a yearning to follow after them. Discover the reason for their joy.

Their laughter dies away, and the young woman speaks up, not recognizing the voice that reverberates through the dark void, but realizes it apparently has come from her.

"Wait!"

A boy's face appears, piercing the shadows, his cheeks dimpling with a smile, his brown eyes glowing underneath his short, blond hair. The clothing he wears is plain and of neutral tones. Layers of beige tunics, a dark brown robe. And the braid traveling across his shoulder holds some type of significance, but she cannot recall what.

"Where are you going?" She asks him.

"To the forest." The boy replies as if it is common knowledge.

But the truth is that she does not know what he is talking about. She does not know where she is or who she is for that matter. There are no memories.

And when she should feel fear, there is nothing but calm assuredness that she is safe.

So when the boy in the plain brown cloak holds his hand out to her, she reaches out and grasps onto it, her fingers curling around digits that are neither warm nor cold.

Just a few steps leads her to the edge of the void, beyond which lies a dense forest, thick with trees and undergrowth, various sources of water within view, flying creatures, as well as bright skies. The illumination of the existence cannot be explained, but the science of the world holds no importance. What is important is the life that abounds within it; abundant life of all forms. Vibrant and free.

"What is this place?" The young woman's question echoes back into the darkness behind her as the brush of children rushing by catches against her dress, fluttering the shimmering sky blue material in a breeze she cannot feel.

"The Force." The boy answers with a frown of confusion. "Don't you know what the Force is?"

The Force, the young woman repeats silently. She should know. She feels she should, but the knowledge is beyond her understanding.

"No." She finally answers with slight frustration.

"It's okay." The boy smiles. "You're s'posed to be here."

"I am?"

"Yeah. Or else I couldn't see ya'."

"Oh."

The boy turns and takes one step forward and stops, twisting his head back to look at her once more. "I don't remember my name, but I was going to be a Jedi."

Several more children wearing similar clothing rush past them, disappearing into the greenery just beyond.

"We all were, until the Chosen One came."

A flash of pain creases the child's brow, but just as quickly it disappears as the chorus of laughter meets his ears.

"Follow me!" He calls out right before he takes a step forward and immediately merges into the thicket. His voice rises to the skies, his spirit disperses evenly into the Living Force all around him, as far as the young woman can see.

He said she belonged here, and although she doesn't know where 'here' is, she can feel the waves of peaceful energy drawing her in.

Peace. She craves it. Realizing that in her past life, she had not had it. There had been pain and deep sorrow. Very little peace.

Yes. This is something she wants. Something she deserves.

She leans forward and reaches her hand out into the serenity before her when a deep male voice sounds out behind her, halting her momentum.

"Wait."

The young woman hesitates before turning around, hoping that the vision before her; her chance in joining the children will not be lost, but there is something pleading in the voice she has just heard.

Brows furrow when she looks upon the man who has spoken.

Tall. Regal. Long hair. Blue eyes set deeply behind a somewhat crooked nose. She knows him from somewhere. He's not transparent like the children she has seen. Like she seems to be. He is more real somehow.

"Don't go yet." He requests.

"But I want to."

"I know, but not yet."

The young woman glances back to the peaceful scene behind her, relieved that it is still there. The wind that rustles the leaves on the trees whispers her name. A name she does not remember.

"Please." The man declares behind her. "I need your help."

Turning back around, she notices those blue eyes of his hold a memory of her life and it flashes before her for a nanosecond.

A battle. A funeral pyre.

She not only knows this man. She has trusted him in the past. And she owes him a favor.

The laughter behind her dies away completely, the air becoming eerily still.

Her passage will be here when she returns, she realizes. When her task is complete.

She gazes up into the taller man's bearded face.

"I will go with you."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

A set of electrodrivers flies through the desert air, crashing against a rock quite a distance away from its thrower, followed afterward by a stream of expletives in Huttese. The speaker of the language stands up and literally kicks the malfunctioning and rusting moisture evaporator with his boot, letting forth another few choice words.

It looks like it is another afternoon and evening of drinking something that tastes very similar to the sewage he and his Master had been forced to swim through on Alteris when the King's son had apparently committed suicide. That particular mission was many years ago but not so long ago that Obi-Wan forgot the smell or the taste of the foul liquid that had inexplicably entered through his nostrils.

He would have to drive into Mos Espa in the morning and find parts to repair the blasted machine. For tonight, he will drag out the old bottle of liquor that he had won in a sabaac game the last time he was in town.

He only ventures into Mos Espa when the need arises. His last visit had been prompted by a fairly mild bout of depression. He had been overcome with a desperate need to be with other beings. Not that the type of beings in Mos Espa were the kind he wished to be around, but going there seems to take the edge of his loneliness. Makes his life a little more tolerable.

It hadn't been so bad in the beginning. He had visited Owen and Beru occasionally, but the older Luke had gotten, the more protective his uncle, Owen, had become until Obi-Wan no longer felt welcome.

He now watches the boy from a distance, perches himself on a stony ledge overlooking the Lars' farm and watches, sometimes up until dusk falls and the sound of the Tusken Raiders drives him back to his home. He carries his lightsaber with him at all times here on this desolate planet, but he does not wish to fight.

He no longer has the strength.

Stepping into his one-room hut, Obi-Wan walks over to the kitchenette shelving and grabs the dusty green liquor bottle, uncaps it and takes a swig of the bitter liquid. His face contorts with distaste and he quickly replaces the bottle back on the shelf, shrugs off his outer tunic and collapses upon the single cot in the room.

There is very little else to do. He sleeps a lot these days.

-

Hours later the moonlit hut becomes aglow with a soft white light as two ethereal beings enter through its stucco walls. The taller, more solid appearing blue form stops at the doorway, but the more transparent, whiter image boldly moves closer to the cot and looks down upon the man who sleeps soundly there.

Glancing over his features closely, she notices every mark on his face, the ginger color of his hair graying at the temples, the coarseness of his beard, the shape of his fingers that lay upon his chest; hoping that something will trigger her memory.

There must be some reason her escort has brought her here, although he has not yet explained.

"He is very beautiful." She whispers, drawing close enough to feel the breath escaping his lungs, if she had the ability to feel.

"What is his name?"

"Obi-Wan." The taller man by the door answers. "He was my apprentice."

"So, he's a Jedi?"

This seems to spark some interest in the gentleman, as he takes a large animated step forward. "You remember?"

But the young woman's countenance falls, hating to disappoint him. "No. The boy told me. This one wears the same clothing as he does. As do you." She says, glancing toward him with a sad smile. "You are a Jedi too?"

"I was."

"What…What is your name?" She knows it is there, and frowns as yet again the information stubbornly lies just beyond her reach.

"Qui-Gon Jinn."

The young woman looks back down toward the cot at the sleeping man, her brows lowering in concentration. "Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon." She repeats aloud.

She suddenly steps away and faces the small oval window. "I'm sorry. I feel like I should know your names and your faces, but I don't."

"Don't worry, Padmé. You will remember, in time."

"My name is Padmé?"

"Yes."

Once again, she is silent, repeating the newfound information over in her mind.

She turns back around to stare at the sleeping form. "He cared for me, didn't he?" It is a feeling more than a memory that leads her to the belief.

"Yes he did." Qui-Gon confirms.

Padmé waits and wonders, knowing that now is not the time for all the questions she needs to ask. The hundreds of questions that are filling her mind. She doubts he will answer her anyway.

Time, he had said. All she needs is time. It is one thing she understands she has plenty of.

"Come." The glowing blue form requests, holding out his hand to her. "There is much you need to see."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"This is a lovely place. The buildings speak of wealth." Padmé comments as she and Qui-Gon stroll down long corridors brushed with white paint, tall golden columns jutting upward to support expansive gray marble ceilings. "Where are we?"

"Alderaan." Her ghostly Jedi escort answers as he motions for her to move through an arched doorway.

On the other side, the young woman sees a trio of people, all dark-haired, two of which are olive-skinned, while the child with them is more fair. The adults are seated upon the carpeted floor and are playing a game with the little girl. Some type of matching game. The child appears to be about three, maybe four standard years of age. Her giggles bring a smile to Padmé's face.

"You can move closer. They cannot see or hear us." Qui-Gon prompts her and Padmé walks forward until she can get a better look at the little girl. Dark brown eyes set in a round and pudgy face, chestnut hair already grown long, braided and pulled back.

"She's adorable."

"She's the princess." Qui-Gon informs her as he moves around to the other side to watch Padmé's expression.

A boisterous laugh erupts from the man she assumes is the father, who reaches down and picks up the little girl, hugging her tightly. "Oh, Leia, you are a joy." He declares, glowing with pride.

The eyes of the young woman abruptly move up and meet his and the ethereal Jedi Master watches expectantly. For an instant, Qui-Gon thinks he sees recognition in their depths, but it lasts just a flicker of an instant and once again she stares at him with a dull and empty stare.

"Is this what you wished for me to see?" She asks without emotion.

"I'm afraid so. We can look at more another time. We do not need to stay here."

--

Time alone means a blink of an eye in this existence, she discovers. Her request is granted and in a flash Qui-Gon is gone and she is left by herself. Standing in an area of nothingness. A blank canvas. No sound, no color, no light.

Another blink of her eyes accompanied by a thought, and she is transported back to where she suddenly desires to be. Where her curiosity leads her. There is something about this place.

Although the small hut does not necessarily hold any meaning for her, it is more about who lives here.

Padmé quickly finds herself standing once again in the room occupied by the sleeping Jedi, although at the moment, his sleep is apparently being disturbed. His head thrashes from side to side, and upon closer inspection, she can see drops of sweat collecting upon his forehead.

Words, names, locations she does not know are muttered from his mouth. He is angry, and then suddenly his anger becomes terror and he lashes out into the air, sweeping his hand through her mid section.

However, his terror soon turns to despair, and he sobs in his sleep, a lone tear coursing down his cheek.

Without thought, Padmé sits down upon the edge of the cot and attempts to soothe him with a caress across his brow. Like running her hand through empty space, there is no tactile response, but there is a response to the recipient of her sympathetic touch. The creases in the man's forehead abruptly melt away, transforming his face once more into the peaceful slumber that she had witnessed before.

She continues her ghostly caresses, speaking words of comfort to him. "Sh, Obi-Wan. It's all right. You're safe."

Blue-gray eyes pop open and he seems to look right at her. But she knows that's impossible. Qui-Gon said that no one could see or hear her.

"Padmé?" He says her name in shock and the equally shocked spirit of Padmé Amidala blinks her eyes once and is immediately transported back to the dark void she had come from, confused that apparently Obi-Wan had recognized her, and wondering at the significance of it.

As her hand comes up to clasp over her mouth in contemplation, she notices that her fingers are no longer the transparent white they were before. They are now the blue tint that Qui-Gon is. She runs her thumbs over the tips and gasps as she discovers that she can feel them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

When Qui-Gon approaches the young woman he once knew as the Queen of Naboo, she is standing and staring at her outstretched hands. His presence is apparently felt as she turns on him, holding up her hands for him to see, causing his brow to quirk upward.

"What's happening to me?"

"You've obviously remembered something." He states with a smile that Padmé does not return.

Frustration creases her brow and colors her words. She did. When Obi-Wan said her name, she recalled a conversation in a pale room. The sound of water bubbling behind her nearly drowned out by the sound of air traffic past an open veranda. She is angry and defiant. His kindly blue-gray gaze beseeches her. Either her words, or something that has happened has upset him. She cannot recall. But she remembers he had come to tell her something. Something horrible.

"What difference does that make?" She blurts out, refusing to think about the past at the moment.

"A vast deal. The more you remember, the more of your identity you retain and the less," the older man pauses for an explanation she would understand, "spiritual you will be. Reclaim your past self and you can interact with the living."

Padmé ponders his statement, her eyes widening in realization of what that means.

"Why would I want to do that?" She clenches her fists as if to conceal them and what she has done, her eyes shifting away innocently, but Qui-Gon is not fooled. He steps in front of her, bowing his head to watch her face.

"You have already interacted with someone." He states as fact and with a wipe of his hand, transforms the darkness surrounding them into a lush garden, their feet planted firmly on a pebbled walk lined with flowers on either side. The scenery immediately calms the young woman.

"Thank you." She smiles up the taller man and they begin walking. "Yes I did." She admits. "I went back to watch Obi-Wan sleep. I find him.." It is her turn to consider her wording. "..intriguing." Another smile lights her face in response to her choice of words. "I believe he was having a nightmare and I tried to comfort him."

"How?" Qui-Gon asks with concern and Padmé casts him a worried look.

"By touching his forehead and speaking soothing words to him."

"You spoke to him? Did he hear you?"

"Yes. I think so. Was I not supposed to talk to him?" She asks in slight panic.

"No. No. That's fine." The older man assures her, although he is frowning. "What happened afterward?"

"He looked at me."

"He saw you?" His voice is filled with hope and it merely fills her with confusion.

"I believe he did."

Padmé watches her escort carefully. His hand drifts up to casually sweep across his bearded chin, but she can tell he is troubled. Maybe she has messed up something by going back. She hadn't asked permission to. She had just done it. Was he disappointed? Why would he be?

Everything was so confusing! He isn't explaining anything! He just keeps telling her to be patient and that everything will become clear with time. Well, if he wants her to do things right, then he needs to tell her what to do and what not to do.

"You told me that no one could see me. Explain to me why Obi-Wan did." She demands with hands gripping her narrow hips.

A slight chuckle shakes his frame before he speaks, glancing down at her with a glint in his blue eyes. "Because you wanted him to."

But Padmé does not see any humor in this. "I did not." Or did she? She doesn't think she did.

"Or he wanted to see you." Qui-Gon thinks aloud. _Which is what I was hoping for, _are his words unspoken.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

"I still don't understand." Padmé says as the pebbled path beneath her feet turns into sand and a young child's laughter reaches her ears.

"Maybe this will help." Qui-Gon motions toward a domed structure with steps leading underground. The laughter is coming up from the stair well and Padmé is drawn to it. A few steps transports her to a wide open area, the center of which holds several tall cylindrical units.

"Moisture evaporators." Padmé notes as she looks upon them and Qui-Gon smiles.

The young woman's eyes glance about the sunlit space, her interest immediately drawn to the corner where a brown-headed boy plays in the sand. He has several containers buried in a pile and is pouring a cup of precious water into a hole he has dug.

Padmé steps away from Qui-Gon to get a closer look just as a woman about her age passes through her.

"Luke! I thought I told you to leave my measuring cups alone!" She gently scolds the child.

"But Aunt Ru! I can't make a palace without 'em!"

The woman ruffles the boy's hair and collects her items. "Go run and help your Uncle."

Padmé watches with interest as the child scampers away, but not with significant remembrance.

"We're wasting time." She declares hotly as she turns and storms past the Jedi Master who follows after her. "I want some answers, Qui-Gon." She demands as her legs carry her up the steps.

Once reaching the surface, she pauses to look out into the dunes and Qui-Gon walks up to stand next to her.

"I know you do." He sympathizes. "But I cannot give you what you want. I'm afraid this is a journey you must take on your own. I can guide you, but I cannot reveal anything to you."

This is maddening! The young woman screams inside as she kneels down to run her fingers through the sand, mesmerized at the lines she is able to place there.

Qui-Gon joins her stance, watching her movements.

"I know this is frustrating." He continues. "It was for me too. Be patient. You are doing well. The Queen trusted my judgment. You should too."

Her hand immediately pauses and dark, troubled eyes seek his out, lips pursing in sudden realization.

"We're on Tatooine." She declares, standing up and spinning around to view the scenery that now seems vaguely familiar.

"I've been here before, but not with you."

"You have." The older man agrees.

"I was with you… in town. Mos….something." Brows turn downward at the discovery as the young woman struggles with the memory and she notices the blue tone of the skin of her hands creeping up along her arms.

"I want to leave." She determines suddenly, walking briskly away from the Jedi Master.

"As you wish." Qui-Gon calls after her with slight exasperation.

She is doing well, he decides. It took him many years to reach this point. But then he had been on his own.

He cannot help her. Too many memories at one time would be too overwhelming and he would lose her.

No. He must wait and continue on as they have been. Painstakingly slow at times, it seems.

Hopefully though, with his guidance, she will remember everything.

Before it's too late.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Darkness once more surrounds her, but it is not as suffocating as before. Neither is the silence. In fact, it would comforting if it wasn't for the aggravation she feels considering the situation she is in.

Insisting upon some privacy, Qui-Gon has left her to her own thoughts, and she discovers there are many. Her mind is still filled with questions slowly being answered, but not quickly enough to suit her.

She dwells upon them some more and suddenly, the silence is deafening and the darkness is blinding, and she wishes to be somewhere else.

She has watched Qui-Gon on several occasions do this, and with a focused thought and a swipe of her hand, Padmé finds herself standing next to a waterfall on a planet that she does not remember, but is apparently tied to. The pathway to it was clear.

She turns to glance behind her. Buildings of stone and bronze rise up with a grand staircase just a few feet away, lined with statues of female warriors. They are vaguely familiar as if she has seen them in a dream.

But her focus returns to the waterfall and the sound of the rushing water. She allows the sound to flow through her and it eases her mind.

She has been to the desert planet called Tatooine in the presence of the Jedi. That is all she knows. It had to be a visit of some type of importance since the Jedi were the protectors of the galaxy.

Her eyes quickly glance up at the memory. Qui-Gon was with her. Protecting her. But from what?

Whatever it was, she wondered if it had anything to do with the conversation she had later with Obi-Wan. She can recall the haunted look in his eyes.

Obi-Wan.

The name caresses her troubled mind and soothes it much like the sound of the water flowing in front of her and she is filled with the sudden desire to see him again.

Dark eyes drift shut and she is transported back to the desert she has just left, but this time to the lone hut that stands on a rocky cliff. Its sole occupant hides inside. It is mid day, but alone he sits, his head and arm draped across the surface of a worn metallic table, empty green glass bottles scattered about the dirt floor.

He looks unkempt and somewhat different than before, she notices.

Without glancing back, she realizes she is not alone. Qui-Gon has stepped into the filthy residence alongside her.

"What's wrong with him?"

"Too many regrets."

Padmé steals up next to the seated form, reaches out and brushes back a lock of overgrown copper hair from his face.

"He's drunk." She realizes. "He looks terrible. Nothing like he did before."

"Much time has passed. He is not handling things very well, I'm afraid."

"What do you mean much time has passed? We were just here yesterday!" The young woman declares.

Qui-Gon sighs. "It has been a year since you have seen him. Obi-Wan has chosen to drown his sorrows instead of deal with them."

"What has he got to be sorrowful about? Why is he living alone here? Where are all the other Jedi? Why don't you do anything to help him?"

Padmé's annoyance takes her to the center of the small space where she spins around in a fury. "Why did you bring me here in the first place?"

A groan from the man passed out on the table fills the stale air as Qui-Gon awaits the verbal storm's passing. Several mantras of patience uttered in the words of Yoda repeat in his mind.

But they are words unknown to the young woman who stands before him, glaring holes through his ethereal form.

"Fine." She declares hotly following his silence. "If you won't give me the answers I need, then I'll find them myself."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Once more alone, Padmé gives into the energy that flows through the void she is standing in. She has been aware of it, but has previously ignored it. It is a foreign intrusion upon her awareness that she has fought against since deciding to follow Qui-Gon away from the forest in order to discover her identity.

But she recognizes what it is. It is what directs and guides the Jedi. The all-powerful energy that binds all things. It is so strong in this place, and deciding that she has little choice, she finally gives in and listens to its language.

Speaking to her without words, Padmé somehow hears and understands its message, closes her eyes and becomes aware of the sound of rushing water. She smiles as she discovers she is back on the planet she had visited before. There is something significant about this place. It feels almost like…home.

She turns around to view ancient stone buildings rising to bronze rooftops aged to a green patina. Her feet carry her indoors, up a grand staircase and through shining hallways lined with columns. Drifting voices draw her to an oval room occupied with a variety of people, its central figure a young woman dressed in an elegant gown with an equally elegant hairstyle and heavily made-up face. Padmé assumes she is the leader of these people.

The previous conversation ensues once more and she moves about the room, listening carefully for any clues that might help her.

"We cannot hide behind our false pretense of loyalty much longer, your highness." A dark-skinned man notes with a glance about the room. "The Emperor is becoming suspicious and we do not want a garrison of imperial soldiers stationed on Naboo."

"Perhaps we should bow down to his authority once and for all. How can we afford to refuse? Already he has threatened to send his apprentice here to investigate, and we all know what _he_ is capable of." An elderly, white-bearded gentleman argues.

"Lord Vader will not be coming here." The queen points out firmly. "I will be going to Coruscant to speak with the Emperor myself. While I'm there, I will contact a senator who may be able to help us. There are rumors of a rebellion."

Padmé has heard enough. A rebellion! These are obviously dangerous times.

A heated discussion begins as she exits the room, her mind awhirl with what she has heard.

Unsure of what to do or where to go next, she once more opens herself up to the energy that speaks to her through a silent pleading.

Within mere seconds, she opens her eyes to a sight of distaste. Unlike the lush green and calming blues of the previous planet with its lovely ancient architecture, she finds herself looking out upon a world that is harsh, metallic, and dirty. There is no plant life or animal in sight. Not a bird or a single tree. Just air traffic, and plenty of it. She quickly makes her mind up that she does not like this place, but there is a reason she is here, and she must discover what it is.

Turning around, she finds herself in a large room of deep red and black, thick carpeting, and all of the modern technology and furniture. It is not to her liking at all and a shiver moves up her spine. It is an uninviting and cold space and she wonders who its occupant could possibly be.

Just then, a cloaked individual hobbles in. His face is concealed by the hood of his garment, and he seems to cast a shadow everywhere he walks.

He seats himself behind the stark metal desk and reaches a withered and pale hand to the communication station.

"Lord Vader. I need to see you in my office immediately."

"Yes, my Master." Replies a deep voice.

Padmé follows that voice to its location with a blink of an eye, and is transported to a room that serves as some type of meditation facility. But there are also medical devices in the room. One for respiratory as well as several other bodily support systems.

Before her is a large, black spherical containment device. She steps away as it begins to open horizontally along its center, a loud hiss sounding out as the upper half begins to rise away.

Padmé stares into the opening and gasps in shock as she looks upon the face of the man who sits inside. His head is down and his eyes are closed, but he has obviously suffered a great deal. Residual deep burn scars cover his skull and neck.

She continues watching as a black plasteel helmet complete with face shield lowers from inside the unit, descending upon his head and shoulders. Just before concealing his face however, the man glances up and seemingly makes eye contact with her.

Padmé gasps once more and utters a name that heralds a rush of memories so painful that she stumbles backward, clutching her mid section. "Anakin!"


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

The blackened void impedes her steps as Padmé struggles through it. Invisible hands in the dark seem to push against her, but she shoves her way past them, tears streaming down her face, the pain of her past suffering ripping through her soul.

Just beyond opens the path of peace she is looking for. The road leading to the place where the younglings whom Anakin had murdered passed through.

An angry hand swipes away tears of turmoil. She knows now. She remembers it all. Understands everything.

Except one thing. One question stands out in her mind. But she doesn't care enough to stay and seek the answer . She only wants the peace that comes with forgetting. The blissful ignorance that she had experienced before.

Hasn't she suffered enough?

Just a few more steps and she will become one with the Force. She won't have to think about what it means to be Padmé Amidala any more, because Padmé Amidala will no longer exist.

Not that she does now. Or does she?

"I died! I gave birth and then I died!" She cries out in frustration to the Force. "What more do you want from me?"

This isn't what she had expected of the after-life. What she had been told since a child. The stories and myths told of passing into an existence of happiness and contentment. There is no happiness here. Only the painful reminder of complete and utter loss. Failure and defeat.

And what about this body she possesses now? No longer the transparent image she had originally been, or even the bluish tint that Qui-Gon appears to be, she now has the appearance of her previous human form. Whole and complete, but without blemish or scar.

The confusion twists her mind and she shoves it away, along with the hands that continually attempt to push her back. Just a few more steps and she will be free.

There will no more pain. No more longing. No regret.

With a burst of energy, Padmé thrusts her body into the Netherworld of the Force, that half of her grabbed onto by what feels like numerous hands of all sizes, some of them painfully tight upon her arm and leg.

The other half of her still in the dark void is abruptly gripped by something else. A single large hand holding onto her wrist with equal strength.

Padmé twists her head to glare into the pleading eyes of Qui-Gon Jinn.

"Let me go!" She screams at the blue apparition.

"I won't! You cannot do this!" Qui-Gon yells back over the rising cacophony of laughing children which emerges from the heavily wooded area beyond.

The young woman grits her teeth in pain. It feels like she is being pulled apart.

"You don't understand!" She argues. "I don't want to remember! It hurts too much! Please! I just want to forget!"

"Dammit, woman! Stop thinking only of yourself! This isn't the Padmé Amidala I remember. There is someone who needs you!"

Padmé continues to struggle, pulling against the firm grip that Qui-Gon has on her arm.

"Who?" She yells at him. "Anakin? I'm afraid he's beyond my help now, Qui-Gon!" She bites back sarcastically. "Frankly, I don't want to see him again. He's lost to me."

"I am not talking about Anakin." QuiGon replies, feeling an easing on her pull of resistance. "It's Obi-Wan who needs your help."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

Qui-Gon hesitates at the doubt he sees in Padmé's eyes, but as a step of faith in the brave young girl he had known on Naboo all those years ago, and in what he believes is the will of the Force, he lets go of her arm and steps back.

A look of resignation crosses Padmé's face as she abandons the siren's call issuing from the forest. The possessive hands upon her fall away like dead leaves. She steps back into the dark and eyes the older man with caution.

"Enough of the double talk. You explain everything to me right now or so help me, I'm turning around and you won't be able to stop me."

A nod of the Jedi Master's head concedes to her declaration, and Padmé takes another step forward.

"Tell me why you need my help. What's wrong with Obi-Wan?"

"He is the key to the future. I have forseen two possibilities. One in which your son destroys the Emperor and saves his father, and another where he joins the Emperor and kills Anakin. Either outcome depends upon Obi-Wan's ability to protect Luke now and guide him when he is older."

"But isn't Obi-Wan on Tatooine to protect Luke?"

"I'm afraid Obi-Wan has strayed from his true path." Qui-Gon explains, his face pained with the knowledge. "He has completely cut himself off from the Force."

"I don't understand." Padmé acknowledges with a shake of her head. "Why haven't you helped him? You are not one with the Force. You have retained your identity."

"I cannot help him."

"Why not?"

"Because he won't listen to me!" The Jedi Master reveals a level of frustration and disappointment that the young woman realizes very few have witnessed.

"He will not commune with me. I've tried. At first I believed it was because he was grieving and that may be part of it. But I don't believe it is me he grieves for."

"Is it Anakin?"

"I'm not sure. But he is not himself, and I need you to try and help him."

Padmé once again shakes her head and begins pacing around the void. "What makes you think he'll hear me? That first time may have just been a fluke. If he can't hear you, why would he hear me?"

"I have a theory." Qui-Gon admits with a grin and Padmé responds with a look of indignation and crosses her arms.

"Tell me." She insists.

"You and I may be in the same realm of existence, but we are not the same. Look at you. You have regained your solidity while I am merely an apparition, a Force spirit. I dwell here and beyond." The older man motions to the distant woods which are now eerily quiet. "You have regained your human form and although you are not part of the living, you are neither part of the dead."

The young woman's eyes squeeze shut at the Jedi words. "Then what exactly am I?"

"Something I've read about but doubted existed until now. It would explain a great deal. Your ability to impact the living world where I cannot. Your very presence here. Your appearance. It can only mean one thing."

Padmé grimaces at the thought of the anticipated explanation; the word she knows he is going to speak. The one word she associates with the person who brought so much grief into her life.

"You must be an angel."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten **

Angel or not, dead or alive, at one point, Padmé was human with the same emotions that she possessed then that plague her now. Anxiety, fear, worry.

The last feeling is stronger than the rest as she gazes upon the body sprawled upon the small Tatooine hut floor. Thinner, disheveled, dirty hair grown long as well as his beard, slightly more gray. He is hardly recognizable. His natural beauty disguised by grime, hair, and sand. Next to him on the floor lies a leather pouch, a grainy, dark red substance spilled out of it onto the floor.

Shocked at what she thinks she has discovered, Padmé steps over Obi-Wan and kneels down to sample the grains, rubbing them between her fingers. She looks up at Qui-Gon with stunned surprise.

"Spice?"

Unable to acknowledge verbally, his voice constricted with emotion over his padawan's horrific state, the older man merely nods his head.

Padmé gazes back down upon her friend, a determination to help him hardening to steel.

As a diplomatic intern, she has seen the effects of spice addiction. The consuming desire for the next hit taking priority over all else in the user's life, overruling all morality and good judgment. Each use escalating to the need for a larger and stronger dose in order to achieve the same prior high, until finally the user is driven to madness and ultimately, death.

Master Jinn was right to be concerned. If not only for the future of the galaxy, then for Obi-Wan. A life such as this was painful and short.

Standing upright, Padmé glances about the dilapidated home. Rotting food lines the narrow shelving units infested with insects. Broken dishes are strewn about. She has no sense of smell and is thankful for that. The place most likely reeks. There is a lot that needs to be done, but first things first.

"Qui-Gon." She states boldly. "If you would be so kind as to help me. You can uncover that cot, yes?"

Physical interaction with the living for the Jedi apparition is not possible, but mentally, he uses the Force to remove the torn and bug-ridden blankets from the dusty bed and watches as Padmé half lifts and half Force levitates the emaciated form of his apprentice to the cot.

Standing up once again, hands planted firmly on her hips, Padmé spins around and smiles at him.

"I no longer require your assistance Master Jinn." She announces with an air of formal authority and the older man's brow rises as once more the Queen that he once knew emerges. "If you are needed again, I will call for you."

With a touch of humor, the Jedi Master bows slightly, releasing a sigh of relief as he turns to leave.

For the first time in a long, long while, he can lay some of his worries for his padawan aside.

Obi-Wan is now in the hands of an angel.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

Whatever the hell is rubbing his face needs to stop!

He would open his eyes to see what it is, but that would take too much effort, he decides. It is much easier to ignore it and hope it goes away. And besides, the burn from his last hit is still in his system, just enough to take the edge off the pain which means he can sleep a little longer.

Afterward, it would probably be a good idea to try and find something to eat. He can't remember the last time he did. But that was the whole point, wasn't it?

Yes. Life wasn't so bad these days. Fairly tolerable in fact. Much better than before.

Now if only the annoying rubbing would stop! And what's with that smell?

Is that soap? Why would he be smelling soap?

A hysterical chuckle ripples through Obi-Wan's body as his eyelids begin to slowly open. However, they quickly widen to a greater diameter at the appearance of a woman sitting on his bed, smiling down at him.

Eyes slam shut once again and Obi-Wan groans in discomfort from the simple act.

It's definitely time for another hit. He's obviously having those strange hallucinations again. It has been several years since he thought he had seen Padmé. At the time, he blamed it on a bottle of bad liquor.

Peeking at her from one eye, he quickly squeezes them both shut once more.

Definitely the spice. She is much clearer this time. Much more realistic.

"Obi-Wan."

And she talks!

"Look at me Obi-Wan."

Forcefully shoving the illusion out of his way, the middle-aged man heaves himself onto the floor with a grunt and frantically crawls about the hard-packed surface.

"Where is it?" He hisses as his hands sweep to and fro.

"Where is what?" Padmé asks naively, although she knows exactly what he is looking for.

"What in the hell did you do with my spice?" He screams at her from his crouched position, his matted hair hanging in front of his eyes.

"Oh, that?" Padmé nonchalantly motions with a wave of her hand. "I cast it into the dune sea." She dramatically sweeps out her hand to match her words.

"You did what!"

Obi-Wan struggles to rise, but falls and ends up crawling out the door on his hands and knees. His head unexpectedly bumps into Padmé's legs and he is momentarily confused. Wasn't she inside?

"No more drugs. No more liquor. And you're taking a bath." A firm voice above him announces.

Sith! That must have been a bad stash. The next time he's in Mos Espa, he's going to have a word or two with that dealer!

But for now, perhaps he should humor his drug-induced vision. Then maybe she'll disappear again.

"Don't need one." Obi-Wan huffs as he strains to sit up and lean against the door opening.

Padmé looks upon him with deep compassion. This is just the beginning. She realizes things are going to get much worse before they get better.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi. Master Jinn would be most displeased. Have you looked in a mirror lately? Do you even own one?"

At the mention of his former Jedi mentor's name, the bloodshot blue eyes peeking out from the dirty bangs furiously narrow.

"Who in the hell are you and why are you here?"

Padmé kneels in front of the seated man, placing a hand upon his knee. She notices he flinches from the unexpected contact.

"I am who you think I am. And I'm here to save you."

Haunted, dilated pupils gaze at her face before his head bangs back against the arched door, his cynical laughter erupting into the still air. "What? Like I saved you, right? You're dead, remember?"

Once more Obi-Wan attempts to rise, this time with the support of the doorframe. He stumbles into the kitchen area and begins to rummage through the cooling unit, which no longer functions, and then starts clearing the shelves lined with broken dishes and outdated supplies.

"I need a drink." He mumbles and moves past her form that suddenly and mysteriously appears in front of him.

Stumbling into the common room, he stoops down, dangerously swaying, and opens a leather-strapped box. Inside are his lightsaber and a dark brown cloak, but neither are what he is searching for.

"It's not there." Padmé informs him. "It's all gone. You won't find a drop of liquor or a grain of spice on the premises."

"That's it!" Obi-Wan yells out, slamming the box lid and bolting upright, leaning slightly to the left. "I've finally gone to the Dark Side! No. I died and I'm in the Sith Hells aren't I? And who are you? My personal Dark Side angel?"

Padmé smiles gently at the accusation. "Something like that." She answers, but her kindness is returned with a glare.

"Outta my way. I'm going in to town to get a drink."

"You will do no such thing." The young woman warns him as he struggles to walk across the room vertically.

"Try and stop me you Sith bit…."

With a swipe of her hand, the Jedi is unconscious and collapses into her arms. Padmé carefully places Obi-Wan back onto the cot and tenderly sweeps back the hair from his face.

"Soon, my friend." She whispers above him. "Soon you will be back to your old self. It will be difficult, but I'll be with you every step of the way. I promise."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

Padmé stands alone, appreciating the rich golden and pink hues of the Tatooine sunset, when a cry of anguish draws her back into Obi-Wan's home. He has been unconscious for several hours and she's not sure what will happen when he awakens, but she does not expect what she sees.

Having cleared the house of anything she thought he could hurt himself with, she has forgotten about the one thing that is the most dangerous of all.

Upon rushing into the room, she finds Obi-Wan brandishing his lightsaber, the hilt facing the opposite direction, the presently inactive, but deadly beam point aimed at his chest. His finger is on the red switch and his face is contorted with pain and grief.

In an instant, he is slammed to the wall by an invisible force and the lightsaber is safely in Padmé's hand. She releases Obi-Wan from the Force restraint and he crumples to the ground. Laying the laser sword far from his reach, she eases the whimpering Jedi back into bed and soothes him with yet another, but much stronger sleep suggestion.

Padmé then sits back in a chair she has brought over to the side of his bed and contemplates the situation as she watches him.

Continuously knocking him out will not fix the problem. He will need nourishment soon in order to gain enough strength to purge the drug from his system.

Padmé lays a hand across his fevered brow to ensure he is deeply asleep and then leaves to go find food and water. She takes his lightsaber with her.

When she returns, it is nearly dawn and Obi-Wan is still asleep. She vows to be more careful with her use of the Force. It is a weapon she is not used to handling.

By the time Obi-Wan begins to stir, a broth-based soup is boiling, the kitchen and common room are clean, and his clothes are washed. All of them.

Grumbling Hutteses curses into the pillow, Obi-Wan rolls over to rise, swings his legs off the cot and immediately grabs his head.

The ache pounding in his temples nearly matches the one in his belly and he is consumed by the overpowering need for a drink.

There's a bottle of ale in the cooler, his fretful mind recalls.

He rises to retrieve it, but suddenly falls back onto the bed, wrapping the clean nerf-hide blanket about his body as he discovers two things. His hallucination of seeing Padmé Amidala is apparently still occurring, and he's completely naked.

The startled movements cause a pounding at the base of his skull, and he groans, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Here." A female voice says close by, and he feels the steam of something that smells remarkably edible rise to his nose.

The broth tastes wonderfully delicious on his tongue, but when the hot liquid hits his stomach, the organ revolts, and Obi-Wan is soon retching upon the floor.

Padmé quickly cleans up the mess and removes the soup, placing him gingerly back into bed.

"I'm sorry." She apologizes as she adjusts his pillow. "It's obviously too early for food. Here, try some ice."

Obi-Wan's mouth falls upon on command as two chunks of frozen water are placed upon his tongue.

"And here. It's all I could find in town, but it should help your head."

A hypospray is placed to his neck and the medication brings quick relief. The exhausted Jedi slumps back into the bed, but continues staring at his visitor.

"What are you?"

Padmé smiles at his chosen words. It's the same question he asked before, just phrased differently. What's most important is that the anger behind his words is gone.

She places two more pieces of ice into his mouth. "I'm not sure. Qui-Gon believes I'm some type of angel."

"Qui-Gon?" Obi-Wan gasps, spitting the ice chips into his hand. "You've seen Qui-Gon?"

"Yes. We've spoken." Padmé smiles coyly again. "He's really worried about you, Obi-Wan."

The hand holding the meltng ice replaces it back into his mouth as his eyes reveal slight incredulity.

"What is that look for? You don't believe me?"

"I don't believe any of this." He answers with a skeptical tone. "This is all some strange side effect from my last bad hit. That's all. By tomorrow, everything will be back to normal."

"And you can go on living your miserable and lonely life." Padmé finishes for him.

Obi-Wan glares at the woman he once befriended right before he rolls over and faces the wall. "Why don't you disappear or something? Isn't there somebody else you can go haunt? I hear the Hoth System is rather pleasant this time of year."

Padmé smiles once more as a glimpse of some of Obi-Wan's wit she remembers shines through. However, his last words had begun to slur together and once more the room is filled with the sound of his soft snoring. He's asleep again and Padmé didn't suggest it this time.

She sits back in the chair and places the bowl of ice on the floor.

Knowing that this moment of apparent sobriety will be short-lived, she wonders what will happen next.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

The trembling starts around mid evening that day. Soothing hands calm the first symptoms that Padmé recognizes as withdrawal tremors, but within just a couple of hours, the slight trembling turns into full body spasms and she is forced to physically hold Obi-Wan down. She places his upper body across her lap as she sits on his cot, her arms tightly wound about him, rocking him gently as wave after wave of fierce tremors shake his frame.

His teeth chatter together as he tries to form words.

"P...p..please. Just one h...h...hit."

"Sh." The young woman soothes him, running a hand up and down his bicep. "We're going to get through this."

"I c...c...can't."

"Do you remember the beginning of the Clone Wars?" Padmé softly narrates, trying to distract him. "You were injured during that awful battle with Count Dooku. I remember the severe burns on your arm and leg. You were barely able to stand. That must've hurt something terrible."

A vague memory of that time flashes in Obi-Wan's mind amidst the chaos of his present suffering. He realizes though, that she hadn't mentioned his apprentice, who had in fact lost his arm during that same fight and he wonders why.

"Th...that was n...n...nothing."

Not compared to this! It feels like his skin is being peeled from his body and his head is going to explode!

"You've always been so strong and brave, Obi-Wan." Padmé murmurs against his scalp, her breath tousling his overgrown locks.

"S..s...so were y..you."

Following his statement, the trembling ceases, Padmé lifts her head, and their gazes lock. The same question of 'What happened to us?' passes unspoken between them. But Obi-Wan suddenly seizes violently, his eyes roll back in his head and he collapses in Padmé s arms, gratefully going unconscious once again.

Padmé continues rocking his now motionless form, her cheek pressed along his, whispering words against his beard.

"We've been through much, you and I. Perhaps it is time to begin healing."

---

Sunlight filters through the dust dancing in the air of the small Tatooine hut. The distant lonely call of a grazing dewback adds to the serenity of the morning after such a difficult night.

Steely-gray eyes flutter open to gaze upon deep brown orbs hovering over him; small, smooth fingertips tenderly caress along his temples and cheekbones.

"Good morning." Padmé replies cheerfully with a smile, but the face beneath her is still grim and creased with lines of dull pain.

"Do you think you can sit up?"

A nod of his head is the only reply she receives. She knows he is trying to justify her presence; to figure out how she could possibly be here. The spice is nearly gone from his system now, and his awareness is slowly returning.

Padmé helps him rise to sit upon a stool she has found, wrapping the blanket around the lower half of his still-nude body.

Once assured that he is stable, she goes into the kitchen to retrieve a few needed items. She returns with a pair of shears, a bar of soap, a towel, a bowl of water, and a straight-edge razor.

"It's time to make you more presentable, Master Jedi." She teases.

Quietly, Padmé trims the long locks of hair away from his face and off the nape of his neck. Blue-gray eyes are now easily seen, and she continues grooming Obi-Wan, next trimming his beard and moustache, and then shaving underneath his chin.

As the sharp edge of the razor eliminates the mixture of copper and gray whiskers, Padmé smiles.

"I recall a clean-shaven padawan coming to Naboo. So full of himself. So confident and just a little bit cocky."

Another smile as one of his brows rise.

"I thought he was particularly handsome then, but I believe I prefer you with a beard. It makes you appear much more distinguished. As a General of the Republic should be."

"I'm no longer a General." Obi-Wan's voice croaks. "There is no Republic."

"Maybe not." Padmé agrees, placing the razor into the dish of water and wiping away the soap from his face and neck. She then stands back to admire her handiwork and the extremely handsome man she has uncovered.

"But you are a Jedi. And now, you look like one."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

Busying herself preparing second meal, Padmé turns around at the soft patter of bare feet approaching the kitchen. She sees that Obi-Wan has dressed in his clean spare tunic and leggings. She had thrown out the original ones he had been wearing since they were beyond repair. Thankfully, she had found a spare set in a small trunk beneath his cot.

Having lost so much weight, the clothing hangs loosely on him, but she knows it is only a matter of time before he regains his muscle tone and strength. Especially once he begins eating again.

She stirs the thick, red stew on the small stove and smiles. What little time she had been able to spend at home before she began her career in public service, she had spent in the kitchen with her mother. She had always prided herself in her cooking, although it has been a while since she's prepared anything.

Confident that the soup is edible, she places the steaming pot upon the table, along with a single polished clay bowl and spoon. Padmé then motions a silent Obi-Wan to sit down and grins as he does without argument, although he does so a bit slowly.

She sits opposite of him and pours a small amount of the nerf stew into his bowl. The Jedi's eyes drift from the table, across to her empty setting, and then up to her face.

"You're not having any?"

"No."

"Don't trust your own cooking, huh?"

"It's not that." Padmé laughs. "I don't need to eat any longer. I couldn't taste it any way if I did."

Brows knit together between blue-gray eyes. "What do you mean?"

Padmé sighs heavily. "I mean, I have no tactile sensations whatsoever." She explains and is relieved as Obi-Wan apparently accepts her excuse, reaching his hand across the table. But instead of picking up his spoon as she expects, his hand moves up and over to caress her face.

Padmé is slightly startled at the contact and although she cannot feel his touch, she can see his thumb move across her cheek and is pleasantly surprised at the gentleness of the gesture.

"I can feel _you._" He states softly, his expression turning serious. "You're really here." His early disbelief melts away to reveal true amazement. "I'm so sorry, Padmé. I should've seen, should've done something sooner."

"Don't." Her gentle word stops his expression. "I'm the one who's sorry." Tears gathering in the corner of her brown eyes reveal to the Jedi that unfortunately although she cannot feel his touch on the outside, he has obviously touched her elsewhere.

"For what?" He asks withdrawing his caress.

"For not being what you need me to be. I know you are lonely, Obi-Wan. I just wish…" Padmé stops, unsure of what to say.

What does she wish? That she were alive? If she were, where would she be? Most likely a prisoner or hiding from the most notorious villain in the galaxy. She had heard stories of him in town, but had yet brought herself to associate the Sith name of the creature to the man who had made a mockery of her love, her commitment, and everything the Jedi had taught him.

Everything that Obi-Wan had taught him.

She wasn't the only one who had suffered at Anakin's hand. Obi-Wan had been lied to and hurt just like she had been, and even though he was on the road to recovery, Padmé had the somewhat irrational desire to somehow make it up to him.

"I wish…you would eat something." She changes the subject.

Obi-Wan nods his head in surrender, but it is temporary. There is much to say between them.

He takes a large bite of the stew, and although he experiences a slight cramping sensation after he swallows, he is relieved the food is apparently going to stay put.

It is remarkably good, but he finds he cannot pass up the opportunity to tease her. They both could use a laugh.

Clasping both hands around his throat, Obi-Wan proceeds to gag.

Brown eyes widen in horror across from him.

"Obi-Wan! Are you okay? What's the matter?"

"The stew!" He gasps right before he collapses on top of the table.

"Force!" Padmé immediately runs though the ingredients she used in her head, mentally checking off any items that he may possibly be having an allergic reaction to.

Immediately on her feet, she is checking him for signs of life when his body starts shaking, and at first, Padmé wonders if this is some type reactive symptom, but then a sound escapes the mouth buried in his arms that can only be one thing.

Laughter.

"You!" She yells out, punching his arm. "You…dumb…Gungan!" She shoves Obi-Wan right off his chair and onto the floor.

He hits the dirt, giggles distorting his words. "You should've seen your face!"

A large smiles appears as Padmé helps him back into his chair. It is a great relief to hear him laughing.

She watches him begin eating, chuckling and shaking her head. Maybe everything is going to turn out all right after all.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

A sandstorm pelts against the outside of his stucco home as Obi-Wan sits in front of the lone oval window and stares out into the windblown designs that gather on the outside sill.

Padmé glances at him occasionally as she finishes drying the meager dishes from third meal. She smiles as very few scraps are thrown in the waste bin. Only after a few weeks, Obi-Wan's appetite has returned to normal and he is doing remarkably well.

At least physically.

Mentally is another problem. Their time spent in discussion usually regards the weather, moisture farming, or the latest gossip that Padmé has picked up in Mos Espa or Anchorhead.

Not yet had they discussed the occurrences of their past, or their grief. Padmé is not even sure how to approach the subject. But she knows it is necessary. Obi-Wan's physical health is important, but she knows he will not be truly healed until he addresses what brought him to the place she had discovered him a tenth ago.

Not once since her arrival and his sobriety had he even attempted to meditate, and his lightsaber stay safe and secure where she had hidden it. He hadn't even asked for it.

She hangs up the dirty dishtowels and joins Obi-Wan upon the double bench underneath the window, propping her head upon her hand and staring out into the sand with him. There's not much to see, but Obi-Wan seems mesmerized by the view.

"If you keep eating as much as you have lately, I'm going to have to go into town and find you some bigger pants." She teases and receives a smirk in reply, but nothing else.

Content to wait upon him, she sits quietly until he finally speaks some moments later.

"Anakin hated sand."

This was a surprise. It was the first time he had even mentioned his apprentice, and as painful as the thought of him is, she knows she cannot turn away from the conversation. They both need to speak about him.

"Yes, I know." Padmé answers, trying hard not to remember the time she spent with the young Jedi in the Naboo Lake Country.

"Where did I go wrong?" Obi-Wan asks, looking away from the window with a pain-filled gaze.

"You did nothing wrong." She tries to convince him. "Anakin chose his own path. There's nothing we could have done."

"I was blind, Padmé. I didn't see it coming."

"How could you?"

"I'm a Jedi Master! I should've known. Mace and Yoda both tried to warn me. I don't know what happened."

"Perhaps." Padmé says slowly, weighing her words. "Perhaps our love is what blinded us."

Obi-Wan begins to nod his head in acknowledgement. He can't argue with that. Anakin was like his brother. But still, he should have suspected something.

"There were signs I ignored. Little things that should have given me a clue something was wrong."

Padmé listens intently, knowing that this all needs to be said, but it is so painful to hear. What had she seen that she had kept to herself? The slaughter of the sand people, Anakin's tendency toward jealousy of any man that Padmé mentioned, including his own Master, and his refusal to ask for help when he so desperately needed it. She kept it all to herself, and now the entire galaxy is suffering for it.

She understands Obi-Wan's regrets all too well.

"When you love someone, you don't wish to see their faults. How could we have dreamed that Anakin would be capable of what he's done? That the anger within him is powerful enough to turn him away?"

Obi-Wan's eyes dart up. He had overhead tales of the new Empire and its tyrannical rulers who were not only apparently bloodthirsty, but determined to rid the galaxy of any hint of democracy.

"I told you when I died that I believed there was still good in him. I've heard people talk, Obi-Wan. I know what's he's done. What's he's doing. I'm beginning to wonder if that's true."

The Jedi had no comment. The last time he had seen Anakin, his apprentice had been consumed by hatred and greed. Following their battle, Obi-Wan had shut himself off to their training bond, eliminating their connection. He didn't dare attempt to touch it, else he or Anakin's son be found.

However, in the process, he had cut himself off from the Force as well. It was easier that way. Without the Force, he wouldn't have to face his mistakes. Own up to his failures. But without that connection, he was quickly overcome with grief and loneliness, and ultimately became dependent upon other things to help him cope.

That is until Padmé came.

"So, what are you planning on doing?" The young woman asks pointedly.

"Wait out the sandstorm?" Obi-Wan answers purposefully short-sighted, to which Padmé rolls her eyes.

"You know what I mean." She insists.

"I don't know." Obi-Wan answers honestly, looking back out the window into the blowing sand.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

Following their conversation, Obi-Wan became extremely quiet; almost to the point of despondent, and Padmé became worried.

He is eating and sleeping normally, although an occasional nightmare plagues his sleep, at which point she comforts him by running her fingers through his hair and speaking soothing words to him. The last several nights however, the dreams have worsened and more than once he has reached out for her in terror, calming immediately as she lies next to him in his arms, watching him while he sleeps, guarding against the demons that refuse to leave him alone.

But still, he is restless, and today became irritable when she asked if he wanted to play a simple game of sabaac.

Taking stock of their supplies, Padmé asks if he would like to accompany her to town. Obi-Wan promptly refuses. She hates to leave him alone, but at this point, she doesn't have a choice.

Force travel is out of the question due to the extreme timeline differences between this world and the netherworld. It seems that a day is equivalent to a year in Obi-Wan's time, so she is forced to walk the distance to Mos Espa.

Four hours later, she returns with two bags and enters the two-room hovel, only to drop them onto the floor as she discovers Obi-Wan is nowhere to be seen.

Panic threatens as Padmé hurries outdoors and searches for him. A flashback of Obi-Wan's prior suicide attempt causes the frantic young woman to rush back inside and dump out the laundry basket where she had hidden his lightsaber.

All that tumbles out of it are dirty dishrags and an old blanket.

Thinking the worse, Padmé runs back out, calling his name, when suddenly the distant whir and hum of a lightsaber can be heard behind her. She rounds the corner of the home at full speed, her hand readying to once again call the deadly weapon from his grasp, when her steps slide to a stop in the sand.

Obi-Wan is on the distant cliff edge of the eastern ridge. Stripped down to his leggings, the glow of the early evening Tatooine suns reflect off his bronze skin as his lightsaber whirls about his head and torso in precise movements. His eyes are closed as he performs his dance and Padmé continues watching, vaguely aware that her observation has turned into one of admiration.

She has always respected Obi-Wan as a Jedi and as Anakin's master, but over the past few weeks, she has come to know the man and not just the warrior.

Beside her, a familiar presence appears, and she does not need to turn around to recognize his signature in the Force.

"That's the fourth kata." Qui-Gon explains. "A fairly easy exercise that can be done with very little manipulation of the Force."

"How about no manipulation?" Padmé responds.

"He's not accessing the Force." It is not a question. More of a statement of revelation that would explain many things.

"No. And this is the first time he's touched his lightsaber." Padmé comments. "Well, except for that one time..." She trails off with a dismissing wave of her hand.

"What time?"

"Oh, nothing." Padmé grins and returns her gaze to the distant vision on the cliff.

"He looks well." The Jedi Master states after a while.

"_He looks exquisite_." Padmé notes to herself. Muscles rippling along his back and chest, he is a compact bundle of strength, which he has rapidly regained, with the confidence and abilities that only age and experience can bring. And unlike Anakin, a humility that makes him much more appealing.

As if a dark film is removed from her eyes, Padmé sees Obi-Wan as she has never seen him before: An incredibly handsome and desirable man, and the truest friend she could ever have.

"Do you think he's ready?" Qui-Gon intrudes upon her surprising thoughts.

Padmé doesn't need to ask to what he is referring. Obi-Wan is a Jedi with a duty to perform, but before he can do that, he must heal completely through his willingness to come to terms with his past and commune with his Master. It is the only way he can find forgiveness for himself.

"I'm not sure. It may take more time." She admits with a frown as she realizes that after Obi-Wan has fully recovered, both physically and mentally, she will no longer be needed.

Knowing it is selfish of her, Padmé hopes it will take much more time; slightly startled by the fact that she doesn't want leave him.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

Time passes whether we want it to or not, and Padmé realizes her time with Obi-Wan is growing short.

The pain over the loss of his apprentice to the Dark Side, and subsequent horrific lightsaber battle with him has passed. And although at one time she had misunderstood Obi-Wan's pursuit of Anakin to Mustafar, it is all too clear to her now.

His only regret is that he didn't save him. Her only regret is that Obi-Wan hadn't succeeded in his quest and mercifully ended Anakin's life, for the sake of Anakin as well as all those who were presently suffering at his hand.

There is very little hatred with the thought. What she feels for him is a very deep pity.

But it is something they no longer discuss. She and Obi-Wan's time spent together is a comfortable camaraderie without the awkwardness and bitterness of things left unsaid.

That is because all has been said. All topics discussed. Minus one.

Qui-Gon.

Obi-Wan's reluctance to discuss Naboo and the death of his Master is something that Padmé has put off addressing, mainly for the reason that it is the final step of his recovery.

The need to however, is evident. She sees it in the occasional distant pained gaze and in the way his smile sometimes doesn't quite reach his eyes.

There's still an empty place in Obi-Wan that Padmé cannot fill. No matter how hard she tries or how badly she wants to. The tender emotions she feels for her friend though, finally overrules her fears and she contacts the deceased Jedi Master.

The time has come.

As usual, following third meal, Obi-Wan removes his outer tunic and retrieves his lightsaber in order to head outside into the cooling Tatooine desert evening for his routine exercises. However, as he steps out the door, Padmé stops him with a touch to his bare arm.

Those chameleon eyes of his darken in response, but she doesn't withdraw her hand. The reality of their situation is too disturbing and other than calming him during the night, Padmé has done her best to keep a physical distance.

Previously suspicious that Obi-Wan's feelings may match her own, the level gaze he now casts her is charged with desire for more, and she pulls back her hand reluctantly and with some difficulty. Leaving him was going to be hard enough without complicating it.

"He's waiting for you, Obi-Wan." She says quietly. "He's been waiting a long time. Are you ready?"

His muscular chest rises with a deep intake of breath that he lets out slowly. "Yes." He admits with confidence, but his eyes reveal a hint of reticence.

"If you need me, I'll be here."

"I know." A small sad grin spreads over Obi-Wan's face as his hand slips up to run a set of knuckles across her cheek, and although her sensations may be dead, along with the rest of her, Padmé's imagination is not. She closes her eyes and can almost feel the caress. In her mind, she is transported to a time when his beard tickled as it brushed up against her face and his lips met her cheek. It was a simple greeting, but it could have been so much more.

Should have been so much more. And now, it's too late.

"Go." She whispers.

With the command, three specific words of endearment hover on the tip of her tongue as Obi-Wan hesitates, almost as if he has something he wants to say as well, but neither one of them speak. Both remain silent, eyes and souls searching, reaching out for one another, until finally he is the one who backs away and turns to head for the eastern ridge where his Master awaits.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

A mixture of curiosity and concern drives Padmé from the stucco shelter.

On the distant ridge she watches Obi-Wan approach the bluish image of his Master. A few words are spoken and Padmé is stunned as Obi-Wan's lightsaber comes to life and sweeps toward his mentor. But even more astonishing is the fact that Qui-Gon retaliates with his own weapon, a laser sword of Force origin, glowing green against his sky-tinged hue.

Not quite understanding the implications of Obi-Wan dueling with his previous Master, Padmé is even more confused as the swords clash together and Qui-Gon spins about, catching Obi-Wan against the back with his elbow, causing the younger man to stagger.

Qui-Gon has made physical contact with Obi-Wan.

But that's impossible.

She continues watching the fight with awe and trepidation, slowly beginning to see why Qui-Gon was allowing it to proceed. The apparition was purely on the defense, blocking Obi-Wan's vicious attack, parrying each blow with intense accuracy. He was allowing Obi-Wan to finally rid himself of the demons he had carried with him since Naboo. To release his frustrations and despair on the one man who would understand.

The battle continues until Padmé begins to worry about Obi-Wan's dwindling strength, gasping as he finally stumbles and falls, the younger man's chest heaving with sharp intakes of breath and ultimately sobs.

Slowly, the Force ghost of the Master approaches his kneeling apprentice, lowering himself to match Obi-Wan's posture. They appear to be speaking when suddenly a blue hand reaches out and Obi-Wan falls into Qui-Gon's embrace.

It is several hours later before Obi-Wan returns home. The suns have long-since set and the cries of the night desert creatures fill the air. Padmé sits on the bench by the window to watch for his arrival; standing as he enters.

There is a peaceful countenance about him that she has not seen in years. Not since his arrival to Naboo, and she realizes with mixed feelings that his healing is complete.

She smiles at him as he drops his lightsaber onto the table, noticing he never takes his eyes from her face.

"It went well?" Padmé asks as he walks slowly toward her; breath that she does not possess catching in her chest, a heart that no longer functions skipping a beat. He is a particle away and she trembles under the intensity of his gaze.

"Thank you." He whispers huskily against her mouth. "I owe you everything. Everything."

"You owe me nothing." She attempts to say, but the last word is muffled as lips are firmly pressed against her own, and strong hands pull her body solidly against him.

Eyes open, her sight is all she has to experience what she has so long desired; groping along his back for skin she cannot feel, and savoring lips she cannot taste.

It is surreal, and Obi-Wan is apparently not immune to it. In his arms he feels a firm substance without warmth, but the kiss is devoid of sensation, unlike pursing his lips into a vacuum. He stumbles away stunned and apologetic.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

"Don't be sorry, Obi-Wan. I'm not." She says with a smile, although her eyes betray her, conveying the turmoil raging inside.

The best thing she can do now is leave before she hurts him any more than she has to.

The despair of her decision shows in her face. Obi-Wan reads it clearly.

"You're leaving. Aren't you?" His voice whispers in the candlelit room.

"Soon." Already she can hear the Force beckoning.

He is somber as he wanders to look out the open door and into the star-lit sky, his hands clasped behind his back.

"I wish…" He begins, but doesn't complete the thought. It isn't necessary. They both desire the same thing, and it is the one thing they apparently cannot have.

Padmé moves away from him to tidy up the kitchen, her movements slow and methodical. By the time she is finished, her distraught mind is made up.

She'll stay one more night to watch him sleep. He's so beautiful when he sleeps.

But by morning, she'll be gone.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

Obi-Wan made her promise to be there when he woke up. He stayed awake as long as he could, speaking to her of simple things, avoiding the real issue that hangs so heavily between them.

Finally, his eyes drift shut, stealing one last look at her smiling face.

He hasn't needed her to guard his dreams in several days. He sleeps undisturbed and awakens refreshed. Only more evidence to support Padmé's decision that her angelic assistance is no longer needed.

Just a little while longer, she argues with the power that has become a steady persistence, as she gently sits down next to Obi-Wan on the bed. She is aware that her early admiration has deepened and wonders if this is such a good idea.

She's in love with him. She realizes this. Maybe she always has been in a way. But this love is different than her first. Anakin was young, flirtatious, confident in a way, but also insecure in many others. She had met him during a tumultuous time in her life and appreciated his honesty and humor. But looking back on it now, she realizes their relationship was a disaster from the start. She tried to warn him it wouldn't work. And it hadn't. They bickered constantly when they had the chance to be together, and they kept secrets from one another.

But with Obi-Wan, there were no secrets. Not any longer. They had shared their souls, found comfort and support in each other's company, and a friendship she did not want to give up. She had never met a man more confident and secure with himself. Now that he had recovered. He had been and still is the greatest knight of the Jedi Order and whether he believed it or not, he would be the savior of their future.

She had seen what Qui-Gon had. However, now that Obi-Wan was grounded in the Force once more, the path became clear. There would be suffering and pain for those involved, but the sacrifice would be worth it. Obi-Wan's actions would bring peace to the galaxy and an end to the Sith once and for all.

"If only.." Padmé whispers in the dark.

"If only, what?" A voice behind her matches the stillness so as not to awaken the sleeping Jedi. Qui-Gon has once again appeared, more than likely to escort her back to the Netherworld, but Padmé is overwhelmed with a longing that she doesn't want to admit to the older man, uttering one simple desire.

"I just wish I could feel him." She says as her hand ghosts over his exposed chest, running parallel over a light sprinkling of hair and a firm abdomen.

A heavy sigh is expelled from the Force apparition as Padmé turns to identify the significance of it. He seems hesitant to speak and she prompts him, suspicious that he his holding back important information.

"What is it?"

"You can." He finally admits.

"I can…what?"

"Feel. Touch."

"But.." Padmé responds, confused, brows knitted tightly together. "I never…I can't….What?"

Qui-Gon huffs a small chuckle through his nostrils and grins. "The Force will provide the means for an incident of importance, but just for a time.

"Such as your fight with Obi-Wan?" She says, suddenly enlightened.

"Yes."

"I was watching you and I didn't understand how you could interact with him when you couldn't before."

A spark of hope lights her eyes as she considers the possibilities, looking once more upon the object of her dreams and desires. But then the spark changes meaning as she carefully rises and turns on the Jedi Master, who surprisingly backs up one step.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She hisses at him. "If you had any idea of what we've been through!"

"I don't want to see him hurt." The older man states simply, silencing any further complaint from Padmé.

"Neither do I."

"Then tell me what good an intimate encounter will bring? What will it accomplish? You will be leaving him soon. You can feel the pull of the Force, can't you?"

"Yes." Padmé admits.

What will it accomplish? She wonders.

Hopefully, an experience that will last them his lifetime and for her, an eternity. But the final decision will have to be Obi-Wan's.

"He's a grown man, Qui-Gon." She points out, returning to the bed and sifting her fingers gently through his hair.

"With frailties." The Master argues.

"No." Padmé sternly meets the glowing blue eyes. "Not any longer. No matter what the galaxy or the Force throws at him, he will prevail."

That was one thing Padmé was sure of.

"You cannot ignore the call of the Force." Qui-Gon continues. "You cannot stay."

"I'm not. I'll leave in the morning as I had planned."

"Very well." Master Jinn responds with quiet relief. "I will meet you on the other side."


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty**

A gift such as this is so precious that it frightens Padmé. How does she even begin? Does she ask? Beg? Will the Force just grant her the unspoken request?

Whatever is required, she will do it. Even if the experience lasts but a moment.

A whisper of a thought floats through her essence in the voice of Qui-Gon Jinn.

"Just reach out."

With shaking fingers, Padmé's hand hovers over Obi-Wan's face.

"Please." She whispers a plea as delicate fingertips light upon his mouth and begin to trace the soft texture she feels there.

Soft. His lips are soft, just as she thought they would be.

Fingers travel to the slightly coarse beard and rake through it as she leans forward on trembling arms, longing to test her sense of taste as well.

A nibble, a slight stroke of tongue across his bottom lip and a groan escapes him, his mouth falling open almost involuntarily, an invitation she cannot ignore. Quickly enveloped in muscular arms, her body is twisted until she is pinned beneath him, arching up to press as much of herself against him that she can. The kiss deepens and Padmé's tongue meets Obi-Wan's in an aggressive caress until she realizes he isn't awake.

"Obi-Wan." She murmurs against a mouth that instinctively moves to her throat.

"Oh, Padmé." He moans in response.

"Obi-Wan." A little louder. "Wake up!"

She smiles as sleep-clouded eyes hover over her, a slow realization revealing utter amazement on his face.

"Padmé? How…?"

"Shh." She responds, running her hands down the length of his bare back, thrilling in the warmth and smoothness of the skin beneath her touch, moving further down to grip the firm buttocks hidden underneath the material of his sleep pants.

"Don't ask questions. Just live in the moment."

A broad smile appears on his face at the use of one of his Master's favorite statements. He wouldn't be surprised if Qui-Gon somehow had a hand in this, but he'd be damned if he was going to waste the opportunity analyzing it..

Her skin is warm and flushed, and all he wants is more. More to touch. More to hold. Just more.

The shimmering white gown that she has worn since her arrival literally falls open under his gaze and he suspects there was a touch of the Force behind it. The material splits down the middle, exposing her eager body to him. And when all he wants to do is touch her, suddenly, he cannot. His hands are braced on either side of her shoulders and he stares down at what is being offered to him, frozen in place.

Padmé, however, can wait no longer. She accurately reads the hesitation as an overload of emotions and comes up off the bed into a seated position, pressing her breasts against his bare chest. The contact apparently is all that is needed to jar him back to reality. His hands are suddenly everywhere, and she moves to straddle him, disposing him of his sleep trousers along the way.

His erection is pressed firmly between them as he pulls her close, her legs wrapping around him.

Long fingernails move up along his back, then through his hair, hands moving to cup his face as their tongues perform an erotic duel.

In the distance, there are doubts raised and questions to be answered, but there is also a fire in his belly that can only be quenched by Padmé, and he must have her.

A husky gasp fills the air as small fingers encircle his weeping erection and ever so slowly she guides him toward his goal.

Overwhelmed by sensation, his eyes attempt to close, but he resists, afraid that if he doesn't keep them open, she may disappear.

The warmth enveloping him, the taste of her mouth and throat, the smell of her skin, is almost unbearable.

And then she lifts her body and lowers herself back onto him and all coherent thought is lost and Obi-Wan is driven purely by need.

He can't get close enough, so he maneuvers them to lay Padmé onto her back, slowing his thrusts to heighten the sensation and prolong the experience, causing her to whimper in his arms, tears filling her dark eyes.

"Obi-Wan." She whispers the name as a caress across his mouth.

Soft kisses follow as he continues his sweet torture with his deliberate movements. "My beautiful Padmé. " His voice sighs. "Stay with me." A thrust goes deep and he abruptly holds still.

The tears then spill unheeded. "I can't." She sobs.

Tender lips rid her face of moisture as Obi-Wan holds her tight. "I'm sorry." He replies, swooping down to bury his face in her long, dark curls, his voice murmuring against her ear. "It's just that I love you so much. I don't want to lose you again."

"You won't, Obi-Wan." Padmé promises him, pulling him up to look into his face. "I'll always be with you."

Deep kisses leave them both light-headed and Padmé impatient as she urges him to move, lifting her hips off the bed. Obi-Wan once more resumes his slow strokes, building them both to simultaneous release, collapsing upon her afterward, unwilling to part, to sever the intimate connection with her, determined to keep her with him as long as possible.

No matter what the Force wants, no matter what she thinks.

He needs her. He will always need her.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty-One**

Obi-Wan curses himself as he awakens. He didn't want to sleep. He wants to relish the time he has with Padmé: To make every second count, knowing they are passing much too quickly.

Offering up a small word of thanks to the Force, he feels her still lying next to him, arms wrapped about his torso, her head propped upon his chest. But her eyes are gazing out the window on the opposite side of the room and into the approaching dawn.

He swallows the lump that suddenly constricts his throat, aware that the rising Tatooine suns will find him alone.

Alone and destroyed.

The slight sound his swallow makes is enough to draw Padmé's attention. She raises her head and smiles gently, then leans down to press her lips against his mouth, pulling her warm, nude body over him. Her focus is on his face, but Obi-Wan knows a part of her is distracted by the increasing light of the morning sky.

"I want you to do something for me." She quietly requests.

_Only if you promise to stay_, he wants to bargain with her, the pain of their impending separation piercing his heart. But he can't. It wouldn't be fair. The buzz of the Force's calling is in the air all about them. She doesn't have a choice.

So, instead, he draws upon her strength like he has done for the past two seasons, hoping it will be enough to get him through this.

"What?"

"Watch over the children. They'll need your help."

A slight nod of his head is all he accomplish as the lump has returned and his voice cracks. "I will. I promise." He says. It was why he was here in the first place. It is his destiny, although for the past several seasons, he has gotten a little sidetracked.

"And take care of yourself. You have always neglected that part." A sad smile appears as a ghostly hand runs down the side of his face and Obi-Wan shudders as the touch is once again empty and cold.

Padmé holds her fingers up to observe the rapid change just as the first rays of the twin suns shoot through the window, illuminating the now transparent digits, setting her body aglow with white light.

A litany of pleas race through the Jedi's mind.

_Please stay. Don't leave me. I can't do this without you. I need you. I love you. Please don't go._

Anything to make her stay. But instead, he remains silent, except for the small gasp that accompanies a lone tear coursing down to catch in his beard.

Padmé is slowly transforming before his very eyes and he is powerless to stop it.

Before her complete transition however, she quickly leans down to bestow a final kiss with lips that are still slightly warm, whispering words of comfort that reverberate with an ethereal echo.

"You won't be alone. Never alone. I'll be with you. Wherever you go. Whatever you do. When you meditate, look for me. I'll be there."

"Wait!" Obi-Wan hopelessly pleads, but Padmé's response is merely a loving smile that is followed by a blinding white light filling his home. He shields his eyes from the brightness of it.

When the angelic illumination recedes to give way to the dawn of a new day, the natural suns' light finds the Jedi curled into a fetal position upon the compact dirt floor, his gasping sobs a direct contrast to the peaceful desert sounds of yet another Tatooine morning.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

"I warned you that no good could come from this!" Master Jinn's voice is harsh against the stillness of the surrounding greenery.

Motioning to a mossy tree trunk, Padmé observes a divine mirage revealed in specific detail and gasps at what she sees.

Obi-Wan lays sprawled upon the floor of his home, much as he had been the first time she had visited him there, except this time he is completely naked.

"It has been six standard hours since you left and he hasn't moved from that position." An irritated blue finger points to the image. "Your selfish actions have made things much worse! Why couldn't you just leave?"

Padmé does not respond to the apparition's accusations. She stares bleakly at the image revealed before her.

"Maybe." She murmurs quietly. "Maybe I should go back and see him again?"

"It's too late." Qui-Gon retorts agitatedly. "You are one with the Force now. You cannot go back."

Padmé looks down at herself. She doesn't feel like she is one with the Force. She still looks the same. Maybe a little bit more luminescent, but she hasn't dispersed into the woods like she had seen the children do. She supposes that's because they were Force sensitive where she is not.

Having been used as a tool by the Force itself, apparently she is an anomaly. A rare Force-created being, or angel, as Qui-Gon had put it. But now that her task is complete, what happens now?

But that's the problem! She argues. Her task isn't complete! As long as Obi-Wan is in jeopardy, the galaxy is as well. She must do something!

Seeing the pain and confusion in her eyes, Qui-Gon remembers what it was like to be young. He had once been in love himself.

Unlike many Force sensitives, he is a Master and has maintained his identity in the hereafter; traveling through the Netherworld and the living world.

He looks upon Padmé once again. Apparently, she is still needed. A prickling along his Force conscious tells him so.

She may not be able to once again be a physical presence in Obi-Wan's realm, but she can be a spiritual one.

He will have to teach her how to commune with his padawan and quickly, before the younger man does himself any harm.

* * *

Padmé focuses on what Qui-Gon has said. How she must relax her mind, open up to the nuances of the energy that flows about her, allowing it to pass through her, to guide her.

Only then will she be able to contact Obi-Wan. Only then can she help him.

She watches him through the provided vision. It has been several hours and night has once again fallen in the desert, but still Obi-Wan has not moved.

She focuses her intent, feels the energy pass through her and whispers his name.

"Obi-Wan."

But receives no response. She tries again, with the same result.

"No." She moans. "I can't believe he has lost his will again." She speaks aloud. "I won't believe it!"

Pouring all of her emotions for him into the Force; her love, her confidence and belief in him, she gasps as the body on the floor slowly begins to move. One arm at a time props up his torso and he finally rises.

Hopeful, Padmé continues watching. He moves to the small 'fresher and takes a shower, actually shaves, and then goes to the kitchen to prepare a bite to eat and then takes a cup of tea outside.

"I knew it." She whispers as she feels Qui-Gon's presence move up next to her. "I knew he would be all right."

Qui-Gon's heavy sigh of relief is heard. "He is grieving. You must be careful."

Padmé nods her head in consent and continues to watch with elation as Obi-Wan moves out to the cliff's edge. A slight prick of panic pierces her mind though as he hovers on the edge, but it is replaced by elation as the Jedi kneels down into the sand and takes up a meditative posture.

"It appears as if he is coming to seek you out." Qui-Gon notes.

A broad, bright smile appears on the young woman's face, which is returned by the Jedi Master, who strolls away through the everglade, leaving Padmé alone with the living presence of Obi-Wan Kenobi.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

He had been lying in the dirt for hours, ignoring his body's needs, but unable to ignore the sharp pain that pierces his heart. The pain of Padmé's departure. Once again he had been helpless to watch as she slipped away.

Obi-Wan has no idea how much time has passed. He doesn't care that the entire left side of his body is numb. Without her, there is no point in feeling anything. All that is left for him is grief, it seems. A grief that not even his Master can heal. It is too fresh. Too real. Qui-Gon wouldn't understand.

Almost in a catatonic state, he lies still, staring across at a blank white wall until the heat of the day dissipates to cooler temperatures, signaling the setting of the suns.

It starts as a tickle; almost like a sand spider crawling up his leg that he doesn't bother to swat away. But then the tickle turns into a cool breeze that flutters over his body like gossamer wings and his eyes move to the window which is closed. As is the door.

Maybe he imagined it.

His skin prickles as the breeze changes to what feels like a breath across his skin. A warm whisper moving up along his back and neck. A whisper that has a voice. A voice that miraculously sounds a lot like Padmé.

"Obi-Wan." His own name spoken in the hushed tone imprints upon his senses, but he lies still, wondering, hoping, and doubting his sanity.

Then he hears it again. "Obi-Wan."

He promised her, he suddenly remembers. He promised her to watch over the children. It's the least he can do.

Groaning as muscles resist flexing, Obi-Wan rises from the floor and heads for the sonic shower, grabbing his razor out of habit.

A neglected stomach complains and he thoughtlessly grabs something from the new cooling unit she had brought him, pours some hot tea he quickly makes and heads outdoors to drink it.

Another breeze ruffles his silver-touched copper locks and he breathes is in deeply. It carries the scent of her and he smiles, and then kneels down to test her theory. She had told him she would be waiting. Maybe. Just maybe she would be. But how can he find her?

Drifting into meditation, Obi-Wan focuses on the life force surrounding him. It is in the distant dewback herd, the farther distant sarlaac pit, in the various desert creatures that skitter over the sand, the inhabitants of Tatooine, in the suns shining on the desert horizon.

He draws their energy into himself, focuses upon it and is once more met by a soothing caress of a whisper across his senses.

"I'm here."

The connection is weak and he grasps onto it desperately, lest he should lose it.

"Don't be afraid Obi-Wan." The words flow through him and are carried away into the falling dusk. "The Force is with you and so am I. I won't leave you."

"Padmé." The word is a gasp from his mouth as he holds onto the tenuous link.

"I'm all around you. The air you breathe, the water you drink, the sand under your feet. Any time you need me, for as long as you need me, I'll be here."

"As long as I need you…" Obi-Wan repeats in a whisper, his eyes closed tight.

"Yes."

A cock of his head accompanies a quirk of his smile. "Then that will be forever, darling."

A soft laugh catches on a breeze that ruffles his tunics.

"You have much to do. Be patient, love."

A grin erupts on the Jedi's face as the previous stress eases from his shoulders, the lines of grief and worry leave his face. "I love you, Padmé."

"And I you, my Obi-Wan." Accompanies the lone cry of a desert jackal right before Obi-Wan feels the hesitant release of the connection. He lets it go with a sigh and opens gray-blue eyes alight with hope for the future.

A future that he apparently will not have to face alone after all.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

Blue eyes reflect in the 'fresher mirror as the old-fashioned straight-edge razor removes the undergrowth of beard that has dramatically whitened over the years. Wrinkles line the Jedi's face, and where did his hair go? It seemed like only yesterday he had been swiping it back off his forehead and now, he has more skull showing than hair it seems.

A familiar and comforting whisper drifts along the quiet of the morning air.

They communicate now without his calling. Without him having to enter into a meditative trance. Their communication happens quickly, easily, without effort.

"You missed a spot."

"Good morning."

"Sleep well?"

"Not really." Obi-Wan replies as he cleans the sink and puts away the toiletries. "But you already know that. Something is coming." He stares into the mirror, weighing the prescience that has disturbed his dreams.

"Yes. But you are ready." A touch as light as a cobweb drifts along a back that has softened and sagged with age, receiving a somewhat cynical chuckle in reply.

"What do you see, Padmé?" He asks the presence with him that he has become accustomed to like his own shadow.

"A very handsome man and the love of my life." Comes the reply without hesitation, but Obi-Wan scoffs in return.

"Obi-Wan."

Blue eyes close at the gentle whisper of his name.

Still, no matter how many times she says his name that way, it sends a shiver down his spine and an ache shooting to his groin. His hand begins to drift to that particular area to rid himself of the hunger, knowing that she will assist him as much as she can. As she always has in the past, but he stops himself, placing his hand firmly on the sink. He feels her amusement in the Force.

"I've got to go into Anchorhead this morning and pick up some parts for the evaporator. Do you want to come?"

"Of course I do." She replies.

They stroll together through the desert, his hood drawn up to protect his weathered features from the blowing dust. A life spent in the desert has been hard on him. But he cannot imagine how difficult it would have been without Padmé.

He asks her about his Master and she asks about her son. Only from a distance, has Obi-Wan seen Luke. Since about the age of seven, Owen has forbid him to see the boy, claiming that he doesn't want the lad's head filled with fantastical stories, giving the boy delusions of grandeur. He wants Luke to inherit the farm after he has gone since Owen and Beru never had children of their own.

It is understandable, but Obi-Wan has never had the heart to tell Owen that Luke's destiny lies elsewhere. He doesn't know where, but the Force has hinted that it has plans for the boy, and Padmé has agreed.

It is frustrating sometimes however, that she knows more than she tells him, but he understands why. Yoda has always said the future is in constant motion.

"How is Yoda?" He asks as his feet step down off the face of a boulder and the trade town of Anchorhead comes into view.

"He has aged." The whisper comes up from the ground beneath his feet.

"Like me?"

"Will you stop that?" The slightly irritated voice accompanies the rush of pebbles down a nearby cliff wall. "I see you as I've always seen you. As you appeared to me years ago. You have not changed."

"So I've not grown wiser and more distinguished with age? That's troubling to hear." He speaks aloud, teasing her.

Her laughter is in the flock of birds that squawk as they fly overhead.

"We're nearing town. Everyone in Mos Espa already thinks you're a bit senile. 'That crazy old man from the desert who talks to himself.'" She teases. "Let's resume this conversation later. "

"As you wish. Although I don't mind the nickname of 'crazy old hermit' you know. It's better than the last one I had."

"Oh? What was that?"

"Oafy-Wan."

"Oafy-Wan?" The hot desert breeze blows back his hood as it carries her voice.

"It's a long story. I'll tell you about it later."

"You'd better."


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

The Anchorhead merchant eyes the white-haired humanoid suspiciously, but accepts his payment readily. He keeps his one good eye on the robed customer as he leaves his shop. Obi-Wan though, pays him no heed. It seems as if his reputation has spread to this part of Tatooine as well.

Hood drawn up, he quickly makes his way out of town, skirting the busier avenues. His hurried steps are not taken out of fear for the residents or their whispered comments about his sanity, but a fear that something isn't quite right. There is a warning just on the edge of the Force that is calling to him, telling him to return home.

He quickens his pace even more as he leaves the town's limits and searches the Force. A strong breeze sweeps up over the sand-covered plains and along with it, a verbal warning in the voice of Padmé.

"Hurry, Obi-Wan." Her heeding carries along the windblown sand. "Luke is in trouble."

* * *

"Are you all right?" Padmé's question accompanies the mechanical hum of the YT-1300 freighter that Obi-Wan has hired to narrowly escape the imperial troops which invaded Tatooine.

"So many lives lost." He murmurs, still reeling from the wave of shock that had struck him just moments before. He cannot locate the exact source, but it created a devastating impact upon the Force.

"It was the Empire." She confirms his suspicions.

Obi-Wan returns down the corridor of the vessel to check on the young man who had taken up playing a game with the ship's first mate, a large Wookie by the name of Chewbacca. He continues past the pair, walking slowly toward the cockpit.

"I can see some family resemblance in the boy, but Leia looks like you. She's beautiful, Padmé."

"Stubborn and willful." The playful reply taps against the metallic flooring beneath his feet.

"A strong leader like her mother." Obi-Wan continues to argue good naturedly. "She has your eyes."

A ghostly hand presses into his palm as he continues walking toward the bridge and a small smile appears on his face despite the despair that reverberates along the Force currents.

"You've done well." She notes with some pride.

"They are both still in danger." Obi-Wan reminds her.

"Yes, I know." Padmé agrees through a hiss of steam that escapes the hyperdrive assembly encased in the nearby hull.

"Obi-Wan?" She asks after a moment of silence.

"Hmm?"

"Keep an eye on this Han Solo. I'm not sure I trust him."

* * *

There is a light at the end of his long journey. It is an intense white light, but not at all painful to look upon. He has seen its glow before and knows what it is inside.

Padmé.

She is waiting for him within that light.

But first, he must face his apprentice. And finally put at end to this.

It has been many years since he has dueled with his lightsaber. Meeting his Master upon the ridge outside his home was the last. Since then, he has only exercised with his saber. Performed katas that are designed as a release of tension, not a preparation for battle.

No matter. This is a fight that he does not intend on winning. It is merely a distraction. An opportunity to allow Padmé's children time to escape.

A voice he does not recognize issues from the dark helmeted man before him, but the arrogance is all too familiar, as is the form in which he fights.

_It appears that I'm not the only one who has slowed with age_, Obi-Wan thinks to himself as their duel continues.

_Very soon, it will be over, Anakin. But before I go, just one last word to reveal to you that after you cut me down, I will achieve a power that you cannot understand. And I will go to be with one whom you can never hurt again. _

_My beloved Padmé. _

_She is waiting for me now. _

_Luke and his friends are boarding their vessel. I can see them in the hangar. _

_And I can see her. She is smiling at me, all glowing and white, with her hand outstretched, welcoming me. Waiting for me. _

_I'm coming Padmé. _

With a smile and a sigh, Obi-Wan closes his eyes, relinquishes his guard and ends his struggles once and for all, welcomed by the arms of the Force and the arms of the woman who loves him.


	26. Chapter 26

**Epilogue **

Laughter of children echo about him, playing against his senses, tickling his hearing, bringing amusement to his soul. He cannot see them, not with physical sight, but he knows they are there. Their voices whisper his name.

_"Master Kenobi!" "Master Kenobi is here!"_

But it is not the children he wishes to see. When Obi-Wan opens his eyes, he first sees the beloved face of his Master. Qui-Gon approaches him with a broad smile and an opening of arms, pulling his young apprentice into a fierce hug.

"You have done well, padawan." He warmly states, tugging on the long braid that trails across the young man's shoulder as he releases him.

A smile blooms of relief and joy as he meets the blue-eyed gaze of his previous mentor, but Obi-Wan's eyes steal past the larger man to glimpse the one being who sets his face aglow and Qui-Gon smiles, acknowledging the young man's longing, nodding his head in her direction.

Padmé waits as the handsome, bearded Jedi approaches her. She does not see him as Qui-Gon does. His hair shines coppery colored with just a trace of silver against the white glow of the Netherworld entrance. His beard is neatly trimmed, his eyes sparkling blue and green with a mixture of joy and mischief. Just as she remembered him on Coruscant all those years ago.

"Obi-Wan." She breathes at last, holding out her hand and pulling him to her.

Ethereal breaths mingle before their lips meet, a kiss that consumes and expands them into the surrounding white light, sending their souls united out beyond the void into the forest, where they become One with the Force.

Together, at last, for all eternity.

-End-

* * *

A/N: That's all folks! This was a different fic for me in a few ways. I kept it in present tense (which was extremely difficult at times) and tried to stay with a Padmé POV.

This story stemmed from a challenge I picked up during "Replenishment" that claimed Obidala authors tend to rush a romantic relationship between the couple. Hopefully, I have created a story that argues against that belief.

Thanks for the R&Rs. The first chapter to my 40th (!) story will be posted very soon. Be looking for "Letters to Naboo." A post-TPM, pre-AOTC romantic fic that includes a padawan Anakin.


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